


A bittersweet homecoming

by aimeewrites



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 10:48:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25469548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimeewrites/pseuds/aimeewrites
Summary: Kathryn Janeway has brought Voyager home, but she has a price to pay. Two years later, teaching at the Academy as part of her sentence, she remembers what happened when they arrived back in the Alpha Quadrant. She also reminisces about her youth and own academy days.But is everything really as it seems ?
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway
Comments: 15
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

She told them. Her innate honesty would have prevented her from lying, but even if she had wanted to, she could not have hidden the evidence. The ablative hull armour and transphasic torpedoes added to Voyager after Admiral Janeway’s impromptu arrival were not exactly concealable. Although her future self had saved them from remaining in the Delta Quadrant for two more decades, she had also landed Kathryn in hot water. Because when Starfleet debriefed her, her futures transgressions were added to the ones already present in her logs.

**Two years earlier, after Voyager’s return.**

Vice-Admiral Kathryn Janeway took a deep breath and prepared to enter the classroom. She couldn’t believe she felt nervous. Facing a handful of cadets at Starfleet Academy would be a piece of cake after her ordeal in the Delta Quadrant. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t used to addressing the troops. However, as long as the seven years in space had seemed, the last two years had lasted an eternity, and although she clung desperately to the shreds of who she had been, she had changed. And the biggest change of all was that she was alone, and she was lonely. Her former crew hadn’t exactly abandoned her, but she had abandoned them. And now, serving her sentence as an Academy instructor felt like an impossible task. Because she didn’t have Chakotay’s encouraging presence at her side, nor Tuvok’s unfaltering loyalty, nor Seven’s imperturbable calm, nor Tom Paris’s cheerful grin… She stopped then – she couldn’t – this was not the time to remember the ties that had been harshly severed. She hadn’t even seen her goddaughter, Miral Paris, since the day Voyager had docked in San Francisco.

Janeway straightened her already straight back and strode into the room where twenty cadets sprang up at her arrival.

“As you were”, she said softly.

She took a few minutes to survey them in silence, remembering how unnerving she had found this technique in her own academy days – the Vulcan professors had been particularly skilled in ominous silence. Finally she spoke: “Welcome to Elementary Temporal Mechanics – I’m Admiral Janeway and I’ll be your instructor for this class. Let’s beginning.” She knew she was only fooling herself – everyone already knew who she was – the return of Voyager had been shown on every possible media, and so had the ceremony where she had been made Vice-Admiral and where she had been publicly thanked by Starfleet Command for having brought her ship and her crew safely home. She had wanted nothing more to go home and be with her mother and sister then. But she hadn’t had the chance. Instead, two security officers had been waiting for her at the door, and they had politely asked her to come with them – the Department of Temporal Affairs wanted to see her. Back on Voyager, she had given the orders, but on shore, she had to obey, and she had followed them.

Janeway swallowed hard and projected the beginning of her lecture on the screen behind her. The judge had chosen Temporal Mechanics on purpose and it rankled. Maybe after all she should have stayed in prison- but they hadn’t given her a choice. In public, she had been acclaimed as a heroine. Behind closed doors, Starfleet had court-martialled her.

**Two years before, a few days after Voyager’s return**

She wouldn’t cry – wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Anyway, it would be from exhaustion more than anything else, because she had always known she would be held responsible for her actions in the Delta Quadrant. At least she had extorted a promise from Command that only she would be blamed – not her crew. The holding cell she had been thrown into was very similar to Voyager’s brig, in that there was no actual door, just a force field, and it meant an utter lack of privacy. When Admiral Paris came to see her the following day later, he found her hunched on the bunk, head in her hands. She was still wearing the dress uniform she had donned for the ceremony. She lifted her head when she sensed his presence and got up wearily, not bothering to approach the force field.

“Kathryn…”

“Admiral. I was complaining I hadn’t had a lot of down time, I guess I’m going to have a lot of that now.”

He looked pained and Janeway could see in his eyes that he, at least, was on her side. His next words thus came as a low blow and she almost gasped.

“I’ve come to appraise you of the situation – I mean, your situation. I’m sorry, Kathryn – it’s… It’s bad. You’re going to be court-martialled for, among other things, breaking the Time Directive, again and again, during the last years and… In the future.” He swallowed hard and went on: “It will be held in two weeks to a month, according to how fast the court can process Voyager’s logs. You are to remain in custody until then, because they judged you’re a flight risk.”

Janeway’s blue eyes stared at him almost passively, submissively and he mustered all his courage to go on: “Moreover, your promotion to vice-Admiral has been rescinded – it won’t be announced publicly but… You’ve been demoted to the rank of Ensign until the end of the procedure and the verdict, when the judge will decide whether you can be restored to vice-admiral.” Janeway couldn’t help herself then. She blanched, swayed and would have fallen if she hadn’t sat back down on the bunk. Her small gasp said it all – I have given so much to Starfleet, and that’s just not fair… Starfleet had taken her father away for most of her childhood, and she herself had just endured seven years away from her home, her family, losing her fiancé in the process. It just wasn’t fair – just like when she was blamed as a child for something her sister had done, just like when at the academy she had tried to defend an innocent classmate accused of cheating, who had finally been unjustly expelled… It wasn’t fair. She didn’t say anything but her blue eyes suddenly filled with tears. But as a little girl, she had been able to run to the garden, to her favourite tree, and cry her soul out. Here, she was on display. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked straight into Owen Paris’ eyes.

“I understand, Sir,” she said, almost firmly. Then her voice broke as she asked: “If I may, Sir – how is little Miral?”

“She’s… a miracle,” replied the older man. “She’s perfectly well, and she and her mother are staying with us for the moment. It’s… I never thought I would have grandchildren.”

Janeway knew the proud grand-father didn’t realise that he was just twisting the knife he had just stabbed her with. She would never have children – never have grandchildren of her own. She had known that for several months now, but the pain was still fresh. During the Doctor’s last examination on Voyager, he had noticed she had entered menopause – somehow, all the time warps encountered during the trip had wreaked havoc on her hormones. She hated herself for begging, but… “Would it – do you think I could see – Commander Chakotay or Commander Tuvok, Admiral?” She didn’t want to ask only for Chakotay – after all, he had never been hers, and now he was Seven’s – but she craved his support. 

When he shook his head slowly and told her she wasn’t allowed visitors, she realised her life was over. She had lost her crew. She would never have a family. She had lost her career – at best, if she escaped a prison sentence, what could she hope for? Maybe they would restore her rank, but they would certainly give her a formal reprimand. No more active duty – no more promotion. Nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

Her first four hours of teaching went better than she had expected – while she had never been able to make sense of Temporal Mechanics herself, she had apparently riveted her students with her knowledge on the subject. Or maybe her severe, no-nonsense, aloof demeanour had subdued them. Janeway had perfected the stern glance with the wayward members of her crew for seven years, and the two years afterwards had added a steely edge to her mouth and an aloofness to her already strict appearance. Only in the tiny room they had allocated her as an office – barely bigger than a cupboard, really – did she allow her shoulders to stoop slightly and her lungs to fill with air. She glanced at her surroundings and decided the bare walls and bookshelves were in danger of suffocating her if she remained too long in there.

Was it really worth it? She had been given a choice – either she remained in San Francisco and taught at the Academy, giving the appearance of it being her own decision, or she could leave and live free on an obscure colony in the Beta Quadrant. Not much of a choice, really. Because if she left, she would never be allowed back again, and she just couldn’t bear that. That had been an unbelievably cruel verdict, not only for herself but for her family and those she would leave behind, although she wasn’t sure she had many of those left – friends… Even crueller than the two years she had spent in prison. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe and she hurried out of her office, colliding into a tall figure who put out a restraining hand to keep her from falling.

“Professor – sorry about that – I hadn’t seen you there.”

“Kathryn! I’d heard you were here. Still young and impetuous, I see.”

Of course he had heard – every member of the staff had probably been told. For the rest, he was grossly mistaken and she hastened to tell him so: “Hardly young anymore, Professor. As for impetuous…”

Professor Hendricks had been one of her teachers at the academy, and she had fond memories of him, something she believed was mutual. After all, when he had contacted her on Voyager about the retrieval of Friendship 1, she had felt his admiration and support. Now her cheeks burned as she realised what he must think about her now. Did he too think she was guilty? Did he think that she shouldn’t be at the academy at all? She could still remember vey clearly his air of disapproval when she had faced him and the other members of her first disciplinary hearing, more than twenty years previously…

**_Memories of Kathryn Janeway, academy days._ **

_“All right – I’ll do it.”_

_That short sentence, uttered in answer to “I dare you”, landed me in very hot water. Even though I was seventeen and not seven, I’d never been able to resist a dare. I prepared very carefully for the prank – I was to launch a two-pronged attack on the electronic systems – a fun one and a serious one. The first one was easy enough – I only had to access the central programming unit and “change” a few things – as in, reprogram all the replicators in the school so that they only served fries and coke while playing an old 20 th century Disney theme “It’s a small world” … each time they were used. The second modification … Well, I really didn’t like that one at all, but I thought it might help us make our point. One of our teachers, Admiral Kerstain, was a real misogynist. He thought girls had no business to be at the academy. We could have put up with his antiquated views if they didn’t impact on our grades – invariably, even when a boy and a girl worked together on a group project, the boy would get a better grade. And so my friends had decided we had to do something about it. Therefore, my second task was to access his computer, or failing that, the academy’s systems where the grades were entered and give all the boys in the class an F average and all the boys an A… We were not expecting the grades to stand, but we wanted to denounce the bias. I would do it because it was a dare, but I’d rather not think of the consequences._

_The replicators prank was a hoot, and although we were all gathered for a scolding, there were no further consequences. The grades prank, however, had a very different ending. When we next got to Admiral Kerstain’s classroom, we were confronted to two very serious and stern gentlemen – the Admiral and the Academy Commandant. I tried to hide my dread but I probably blanched. When the Commandant asked who was responsible, I stood up and although my friends would have stood up to, I reminded them with a look that that was not what we had agreed on. I didn’t have to take the dare in the first place._

_“I did it, Sir”, I said meekly, standing at attention. The Commandant looked surprised, the Admiral infuriated. Too late, I realised that both men knew my father – actually, he and the Commandant had served under the same command._

_“Cadet Janeway, you’ll face a disciplinary hearing tomorrow at 0800. Until then, you’re confined to quarters.”_

_“Yes, Sir.”_

_Let’s just say that I didn’t sleep much that night. I imagined all the possible outcomes and none of them appealed. I prayed I wouldn’t be suspended. I prayed my father wouldn’t hear of it. Only half of my prayers was answered. After an extremely uncomfortable hour, where I was lectured by the Commandant, Admiral Kerstain and Admiral Hendricks, who was responsible for my year, I was finally sentenced to two months confined to quarters – except for classes – and suspended from all participation to extra-curricular activities for the whole year. This stung, as I was captain of the chess team and on the fencing team. They explained that they had been lenient, due to the fact that it had not been an attempt at cheating but a protest. I did not find my sentence lenient in the least, but at least I’d escaped suspension. The hardest to bear, though was the look in the officers’ eyes and my father’s few glacial words when he called me afterwards: “I am extremely disappointed in you, Kathryn. I hope this will not happen again.” Then he hung up and I burst into tears. He never called me Kathryn – always Katie or Kitten._

_**Academy, present day** _

Janeway nearly missed what her former professor said.

“…Thought they were hard on you in there. I guess they wanted to make an example, but… You brought your ship and your crew home – that was… Well, you went above duty for that.”

It took Janeway a few seconds to realise Hendricks had not been privy to her thoughts and was talking about her court-martial.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Would you like to have lunch someday, Kathryn?”

“I’d like that.”

“I’ll contact you later this week and we can arrange something then. And Kathryn… Hang on in there.”

“Will do, Sir. Thank you.”

He strode away and she resumed walking in the opposite direction. Hanging on was all she seemed to be able to do lately. Since she had been released from prison, she hadn’t seen anyone – hadn’t heard from anyone. At the beginning of her sentence, she had been allowed to send messages to family members and close friends. To her mother, to Phoebe, she had said that she was sorry for everything, that she loved them and would see them at the end of the nightmare. To B’Elanna and Tom Paris, she had wished a happy future and she had sent all her love to her little goddaughter, Miral. To Tuvok, she had written “live long and prosper, my friend – thank you for everything you’ve ever done for me.” To Seven – she hadn’t been able to write to Seven – it hurt too much. And to Chakotay, she had said that she wished him every happiness with Seven and that she wouldn’t have brought Voyager home without him. She forbade all of them to contact her, told them she wasn’t allowed visitors – true – or communications – untrue. She just knew that she couldn’t have borne seeing them.


	3. Chapter 3

Back in the small flat she’d been allocated at her release from prison, on the Academy grounds, the first thing Janeway did was release her hair from the tight bun she’s pulled them into at the beginning of the day. Uniformly auburn when she had started on Voyager, they were now streaked with white and grey. The weight she had lost during her time in prison had hollowed out her cheeks and she looked like a ghost of her own self. She had been released only five days previously and had not had time to go and see her mother and Phoebe yet. She had been in contact with them, of course, her first com from the outside having been to Gretchen Janeway, who’d wept unabashedly at hearing & seeing her daughter. She pressed a button and the soothing tones of Schubert’s _Winterreise_ filled the flat. She had missed music. Long days of silence, with only occasional footsteps, had sometimes brought her to talk to herself aloud, just to fill the intolerable void.

**_Memories of Kathryn Janeway, Academy days_ **

_“Can’t you please just – just turn that down! I have to work!”_

_It didn’t do anything, just made me ashamed of my outburst. It was Sunday night, and my dormmates were having a party. They were not responsible for the fact that I was – again – facing an all-nighter. And entirely by my own fault. Just because Commander O’Neill had made a mistake and I’d been stupid enough to point it out, in the most smart-assedly way possible. Well, maybe it wasn’t completely my fault that I was fascinated by MACHOs. Massive compact halo objects were in my opinion the most riveting objects of all the galaxies. Who could help being enthralled by bodies that emitted little or no radiation and weren’t associated with any planetary system? However, I could have kept quiet when Commander O’Neill said there was enough proof that Machos with masses in the range of 0.3 lunar masses could explain dark matter and could be red or white dwarfs. Instead, I had to object and disprove his theory, which saddled me with extra-work – I was to hand him a forty-pages essay on robust associations of massive baryonic objects for Monday first thing. I hadn’t been able to start the day before because the chess team was away for a tournament with Omegatron Academy, and we’d come back quite late in the evening, after having celebrated our victory with that old-fashioned treat, pizza and chianti…Quite a lot of chianti, in fact, topped up with amaretto…No one had checked if we were all of age – which I was definitely not… Not used to drinking, I’d woken up late and with a blinding hangover. Therefore, I had only – well, a night – to start and finish the essay. Just as I’d sat down in front of my computer with a huge mug of black coffee, the music had started two doors from my room._

_What I handed over the next day was probably the most botched essay of my entire schooldays. Indeed, I got it back the next day, with a humongous dressing-down from the commander and the order to do it all over again. During the four years I stayed at the academy, I never drank more than one beer at a time, and even now, I know I’m quite a lightweight when it comes to alcohol._

Janeway was interrupted in her reminiscences by a knock at the door. She hurriedly threw on a sweater to cover the tank top she had stripped to and went to open the door. She found one of the Academy’s crewmen, holding a huge parcel. He deposited it on the floor near the couch and left her staring at it. Then she recognised her mother’s handwriting on the label. At least it was probably not a time bomb, she thought wryly. She sat down on the floor, carefully opened the box and took out its contents. At the end of the process, she swallowed hard and blinked back tears, staring at a framed photograph. Of course, the contents of her private quarters in Voyager would have been sent to her mother during her incarceration. And her mother had sent them to her, hoping, as her note said, that it would “help her be more comfortable” in her new flat. Her favourite coffee cup. Several gifts from various aliens they had encountered. The quilt her grandmother had made for her, which she had brought as a piece of home. A framed picture of Mark and Mollie, her dog. God – she missed Mollie. She missed Mark too, but she knew that ship had sailed long ago. She thought of the puppy Q had given her… Her stupid principles had made her give it back to the obnoxious man, but…She had always regretted it. And the picture she stared at for a very long time before finally dissolving into tears – the one taken by the Doctor’s on Ancestors’ Day. Her crew – her friends – her family, really. She missed them – and they weren’t hers anymore. They had their own lives to live. And she had hers. Maybe she could get another dog – there was no chance of any away mission now.

She almost missed the piece of paper her mother had put at the bottom of the box. Through her tears, she had trouble deciphering the words. “My dear Kathryn, you said you didn’t want to hear from us and I respected your wishes. But I sent this to your mother and asked her to get it to you when she could. If you are reading this, that moment has come. I received your message wishing me and Seven good luck. The fact is…There is no me and Seven. There was, for a while, a brief flirtation born of the need for companionship, frustration, and jealousy. Jealousy because you were in love with your ship, your crew and your duty. I understood that, but I wanted more and you couldn’t give it to me then. If I wasn’t mistaken then – if you have feeling for me, Kathryn… Then please – it’s not too late. Chakotay.”

She sobbed for a long time, huddled on the floor, unable to get up, her body wracked with all the emotions she hadn’t let herself feel for two years. It was too late – of course it was. The Janeway she was now was no longer the Kathryn he had known and maybe – maybe loved. She was just a dry shell – an empty soul.


	4. Chapter 4

When Janeway finally picked herself up from the floor and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, night had fallen on the city. She walked slowly towards the window and looked at the sky – so many stars – so many galaxies – they had tried to discipline the universe, to order it in quadrants, to master its assets, and it had cost them so much. She thought of the crew members she had lost, of her father’s and her fiancé’s deaths, of all the colleagues that had perished for the Starfleet ideal. She didn’t regret anything – even though she had lost everything. She had done what she believed had been her duty.

She drew herself a bath, letting herself enjoy the luxury of it – among all the material comforts, a bathtub and hot water had been what she had most missed during her imprisonment. That and coffee. And warmth – she had felt cold for two years, but she knew it had been due as much to the lack of heating in the prisons as to her loneliness. For the first time since her release, she stood completely naked in front of the mirror and examined her body dispassionately. The bruises had faded but the scars remained – some still red and raised, others deep, adding to the lines of age. She had never thought of herself as pretty, but she couldn’t help being disturbed by what her body had become. And these weren’t the scars of won battles, but the stigmata of humiliating incarceration… How could she even think of contacting Chakotay again? She was damaged. She couldn’t do that to him. She tore herself from the mirror and got into the bathtub, letting for a brief moment the warm water soothe her mind.

**_Two years previously, after Voyager’s return._ **

Three weeks after her arrest, they had brought her a fresh uniform to wear and had informed her her court-martial would be held on the next day. When they came for her, she held her head high and stood at attention before the four officers in dress uniform – Admirals Nechayev, Toddman, Paris, and another one she didn’t know. She thought wryly of having joked about being on first-name basis with Starfleet Command admirals… There would be no familiarity today.

Admiral Nechayev spoke :“Ensign Janeway”

Oh, God, how it hurt…

“This court is now in session. I have appointed as members of this court Admirals Toddman, Jones and Paris. I direct your attention to the fact that you have a right to ask for substitute officers if you feel that any of these named harbour any prejudiced attitudes to your case.”

“I have no objections, sir,” replied Janeway softly.

She remained standing as the computer read out the charges. Violations of the Prime Directive, over and over again, starting when she gave the order to destroy the Array and ending with her future self blatant disregard for the Temporal Prime directive. She forced herself to hide her dismay behind a stony façade. 

“To all recorded charges and specifications, what is the plea?”

She almost jumped, lost in the memories of the events of the last seven years. She had done it – all of it – and she had brought her crew home. Thanks to her future self-sacrifice and utter defiance of every Starfleet principle. But there was no doubt…

“Guilty”, she stated, as clearly as possible.

She heard a collective intake of breath – they had probably thought she would try to defend herself.

“Court is now in session. The board will entertain motions before delivering its verdict.”

When she heard the verdict, it took her all her self-control to remain standing and to face the court. Two years…And at the end of the first year, three months in a Klingon penal facility for what her future self had done – for the theft of the chrono-deflector. She wouldn’t make it alive.

The human body is amazingly resistant, and the mind of a woman unerringly resilient. Starfleet prisons were uncomfortable – she hadn’t been expecting luxury, and she did not get it. The hardest was to go from being in command to being ordered about. And the petty privations – the harsh bedlinen, the lack of coffee, the almost unpalatable food, the guards who appear to enjoy calling her “Ensign” and giving her the most humiliating tasks, like cleaning the latrines or picking the trash in the yard. But when after the three months in the Klingon prison she was returned to Starfleet, she almost wept with joy. Many times during those months she had thought of ways to end it all. A word, a look, would earn you a severe beating with a painstik. Once, she tried to protect a newcomer, a young humanoid woman who looked as out of place as she did in that Klingon hell… She should have known helping would get her in trouble, but compassion was etched in her nature even more than her principles…

**_Memories of Kathryn Janeway, Academy days_ **

_“Cadet Janeway! What do you have to say for yourself?”_

_I remained silent – this was bad. This was my second disciplinary hearing, and although in my first years I had had the excuse of youth, I was now in my last year at the academy. I should have known better. But when I’d spotted a young Betazoid being shoved against the wall by a hulking girl, I’d seen red. I had intervened before – tried to talk to the bully, but she had brushed me aside. So this time, I’d decided to let my fists do the talking – or rather, my legs, as I executed a perfect kung zhi ho movement and my left foot connected with her nose. I hadn’t noticed one of the instructors standing by and witnessing the whole scene._

_“Well?”_

_“I didn’t mean to break Cadet Liew’s nose, Sir… But I had to stop her.”_

_“And you thought violence was the right way to do it, Cadet?”_

_I stared at my shoes and gulped: “No, Sir.”_

_Like at my first disciplinary hearing, I got confined to quarters for two months, with the additional shame of being paddled in front of my whole year. To be fair, they gave me a choice – I could accept the punishment or be suspended. There wasn’t really a choice._

The Klingon guards beat so severely she wasn’t able to stand for two days. She was whipped as an example in front of the other prisoners, her back shred to tatters. But she survived. Starfleet Medical repaired some of the damage when she came back to a Federation prison, but some of the wounds had got infected and left ugly scars. She still wondered why she had survived. There must be a reason. Did she still have a mission to fulfil? She was sooo tired…


	5. Chapter 5

Back on the academy campus, Janeway watched the cadets as she sipped her ubiquitous cup of coffee. Hard to imagine she had been that young and naïve once, and yet, since her release, she had been bombarded with memories. 

**_Memories of Kathryn Janeway_ **

_He was tall, dark, and handsome, and I was in love. I was ten years old and certain that he was the man I was going to marry. Ensign Jorge was in his twenties, one of the science officers on my father’s ship, and since he had no family living by, my father had brought him home to celebrate Thanksgiving with us. Probably amused by my wide-eyed admiration, the men allowed me to sit with them as they drank beer on the back porch and talked shop. My mother called me inside and I was soon back with a bowl of nibbles, having adamantly forbidden my sister to follow me outside._

_“We’re talking about grown-up things you can’t understand,” I asserted, a little guiltily because my father was never home and I knew my sister craved his company as much as I did. Phoebe pouted but disappeared back into the house. I sat back with the men and offered them the occam nuts. During a lull in the conversation, I suddenly piped up: “I’m going to be a scientist too!”_

_My father smiled and the young ensign looked at me indulgently: “Are you? I didn’t think little girls wanted to become scientists. Isn’t it a bit – well – scientific – for you?”_

_My chin went up: “So what! If you can be one, I can be one too! I’ll go to the Academy, and then – then, on missions , and discover things, and…”_

_I was becoming quite agitated – suddenly, I didn’t want to marry the guy anymore – I wanted to show him what I was capable of. And I wanted my father to be proud of me. Ensign Jorge help up his hands in surrender._

_“All right – here’s something to sink your baby teeth into- All students in the physics class also study mathematics. Half of those who study mechanics also study mathematics. Half of the students in the mathematics class study physics. Thirty students study mechanics and twenty study physics. Nobody who studies mechanics studies physics. How many students in the mathematics class study neither physics nor mechanics?”_

_I frowned. “Give me a minute, will you?”_

_He laughed: “You have until I leave, darling.”_

_To my absolute horror, I couldn’t get it straight away. My mother called us in for dinner and the men were leaving tomorrow at 8am. For once, I didn’t eat much at dinner – my mind was on other, loftier things. After dinner, which went on for quite a while, I was sent to my room and told to go to bed. I stayed there until my mother came in and kissed me goodnight. Then I snuck back up and grabbed a piece of paper and a paper. Burrowing under my duvet, I tried to figure out the riddle. At 6 in the morning, noises from the kitchen woke me up from a deep slumber. I glanced desperately at my piece of paper one more time and – suddenly, it all made sense! I jotted down my findings and rushed downstairs, where I thrusted my notes under Ensign Jorge’s nose, narrowly missing his scrambled eggs._

_“Here!” I crowed. “I did it!” And then I yawned and rubbed my eyes with my hand._

_Ensign Jorge was silent – my father looked at him, as if waiting for him to tell me I was wrong. Instead, the young man looked back at my father, bewildered. “She really did,” he stated blankly._

_My father smiled at me: “Well, kitten, maybe we’ll make a scientist of you one day!”_

Janeway glanced at the white clock on the wall of the nearest building and saw it was nearly time for her next class. She sighed and started to walk towards the lecture hall. Deep in her thoughts, she did not notice a young woman coming up to her and hugging her.

“Admiral – I thought it was you! I’m so glad to see you! Oh! I’m sorry!”

Janeway found herself face to face with a sheepish B’Elanna Torres, who studied her coffee-stained uniform with a frown.

“I’m so sorry – I – I didn’t see the coffee – I was just…”

“You were glad to see me,” replied Janeway matter-of-factly. “It’s all right, Lieutenant – Coffee won’t kill me. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get to class. Goodbye.”

She didn’t wait for the younger woman’s protests as she strode away without a backward glance. Unable to face the cadets, Janeway found the nearest restroom and locked herself into a stall. She tried to breath deeply but air only came in short, unsatisfying bursts. B’Elanna! She had no idea the young engineer was teaching on campus too. Well, it wasn’t like she had tried to stay in contact with her former crew, she chided herself. She should have thought about that possibility. Her heart beat a tattoo in her ribcage and she felt slightly light-headed. Why had she been so rude with her former chief engineer and mother of her goddaughter? Why couldn’t she just have returned the embrace and the kind greeting? On board Voyager, she had always known when a gentle hand would do more than words, and now… Now she shied away from human touch. She looked at the hand that had so often pressed one of her crewmen’s shoulders in comfort and noticed it was shaking. Get a grip, Captain – she chastised herself. She still thought of herself as captain rather than as admiral – Admiral Janeway was that stranger who had sacrificed her principles and her life to get them home. Slowly, painfully, she tried to expand her lungs and to calm down. She massaged her forehead with her fingers, attempting to wipe the unease of it, and slammed the door of the stall behind her.

“… an exact mirror image of our universe — one with all matter swapped for antimatter, reflected in all spatial directions, and traveling backward in time — would obey physical laws that are identical to those of our own universe in every conceivable way.If CP symmetry is violated, then there must be a corresponding break in T-symmetry, so the total CPT symmetry is preserved.”

Janeway stopped the lecture. “Dismissed!”

The cadets filed out and she slowly followed them. What if she ran into B’Elanna again? What could she say? What could she do? She only knew that while part of her craved the familiarity of her past life, yearned for the relationships built during seven years of hardship and complicity, a bigger part told her to stay away. To protect them – because she would hurt them –the dry husk of a woman she had become would lash at them and ruin their lives. She had hurt B’Elanna earlier – she deeply regretted it, but she could not have done otherwise. She didn’t know how to anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- the end of Janeway's lecture taken from : http://what-when-how.com/string-theory/temporal-mechanics-101-how-time-flies-string-theory/
> 
> \- the answer to Ensign Jorge's riddle is : If there are 20 physics students who all take mathematics, and half of the mathematics students study physics, there must be 40 students in the mathematics class. If half of the 30 mechanics students take mathematics, then 15 of them take mathematics. Since none of the mechanics students study physics, only five students in the mathematics class study neither physics nor mechanics.


	6. Chapter 6

She was ambushed – there was no other term for it. About two weeks after their first encounter, a fierce half-Klingon woman was waiting for Janeway in the corridor at the end of one of her lectures. In full view of the cadets and passing staff, she couldn’t very well ignore B’Elanna, who was standing cross-armed, like she meant business and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Steeling herself for the confrontation, she walked up to her former chief engineer and tried her best to project authority and confidence.

“Lieutenant. What can I do for you?”

In lieu of answer, B’Elanna thrust a pad in front of her former captain’s nose. Then, as if to a small child, she explained: “I just thought you might want to see this, Admiral.”

Janeway felt her cheeks burning and she stared at the pad to avoid B’Elanna’s glare. She saw a cute toddler smiling for the camera with her father’s cheeky grin. In two years, Miral had gone from baby to little girl. She thought briefly that the child was the closed thing she would ever have to a grandchild.

“Would you like to see her?”

Janeway started. “No, I would not,” she replied briefly.

“Liar,” retorted B’Elanna sotto voce, but loud enough for Janeway to hear. “I saw your face light up when you looked at the pad.”

Unwilling to air her dirty laundry in the middle of a corridor here at any moment people could hear them, Janeway nodded in the direction of a secluded corner, intimating that B’Elanna should follow her. Once they were in a more secluded area, she hissed: “What exactly do you want from me, Lieutenant?”

“Nothing!” exclaimed B’Elanna exasperatedly. “For Kahless’ sake, Admiral! You’ve spent two years in prison for so-called “crimes” you committed to help us all survive. You took all the blame, and…” Her voice softened: “I can see it changed you – I would just… You helped me, you know, on Voyager. At first I hated you – I thought you were that arrogant hard-ass captain who’d stranded us in the Delta Quadrant, and who was all Starfleet fucking principles. But… You helped me – you helped me grow, you helped me become a good officer and… And you helped Tom, too. And Harry. And all of us, really. And… Well, I’d like to help you in return if I can, Admiral.”

To her horror, Janeway felt her eyes moisten with tears. She gulped frantically to keep them at bay. “I’m not fit for company, B’Elanna,” she finally replied. She knew she was not. A week earlier, she had finally made it back to Bloomington, her hometown. She had been genuinely pleased to see her mother and Phoebe but had felt stiff in their embraces. Her mother had known better than to pester her with questions but Phoebe had tried to fill the silence with inane chattering and she had snapped at her before slamming the door and remaining outdoors until way past dinnertime. She had apologised afterwards, but it had shown her how unused she had become to idle gossip and the presence of others.

“Please? It would only be Miral and I – Tom is away on a mission.”

And on the tight sutures that covered Janeway’s heart, a small stich yielded.

“All right. When should I come?”

“This weekend ? Sunday lunch? I’m no cook, but I can replicate a passable pot roast.”

“I’ll bring dessert.”

“See you Sunday, Admiral.”

As B’Elanna started to walk away, Janeway called her back: “Lieutenant?” When the younger woman turned, she just made out the soft “thank you” the admiral whispered.

Three days later, Janeway stood at the Parises doorstep, a coffee cake in one hand and a present for Miral in the other – a fluorescent galaxy globe. As she was welcomed inside and a small tornado threw herself in her legs and almost made the cake capsize, she felt another stich loosen.

“Look at you! You’ve grown!”

Truth to be told, Janeway didn’t know anything about children, and she never knew how to behave with them. She knew enough to crouch and hug the child, who obviously hadn’t had a day of shyness in her life. Then she stood back up and waited awkwardly until B’Elanna, who had taken the cake in the living room, returned.

“Come on in, Admiral – I hope you’re hungry. Would you like a drink first?”

A whisky or two would probably have helped, but she hadn’t eaten the night before, nor had breakfast, and Janeway knew it wouldn’t be a good idea. She wasn’t hungrily – her insides were so tightly knotted she didn’t know how she’d be able to swallow even a mouthful, but – she had taken the first step. She was there.

During the meal, B’Elanna talked about Miral’s numerous accomplishments, about Tom’s missions, about her job at the academy. Janeway stayed mostly silent, interjecting now and then to show she was paying attention, but knowing she had nothing to contribute. “Well, I was tortured in a Klingon prison – you know, by your people” wasn’t exactly appropriate. Anyway, she would never say that to the young half-Klingon. She wasn’t even angry with the guards anymore – nor with Starfleet Command. If she was angry with anyone, it was only with herself. She was slowly beginning to relax and maybe even to enjoy herself, sipping a cup of coffee while “helping” Miral complete a jigsaw when the doorbell rang.

“It’s all right, I’ll get it”, yelled B’Elanna from the other room, where she was replicating more coffee.

Janeway’s sixth sense, the one that had warned her of an impending danger in the Delta Quadrant, sending shivers down her spine and making her stomach churn, had been blunted during her two-year sentence. Therefore, she didn’t even glance up from where she was sitting on the floor next to Miral until a familiar voice said “Kathryn” from the other end of the room.


	7. Chapter 7

Janeway instantly blanched. Trying to spring to her feet, she sent the jigsaw flying and stifled a cry of pain as the hip she had dislocated during her stay in the Klingon prison protested against the brusque movement. Once standing, she swayed – she had been treated too late for it to fully recovered. Immediately, both Chakotay and B’Elanna were at her side, and Chakotay extended his hand to steady her.

“Don’t you dare touch me!” she hissed. Then, she turned to B’Elanna, eyes full of anger and disappointment. “How could you?”

Janeway gritted her teeth against the pain and attempted to walk towards the door, but all went black and she crumpled to the floor.

**_Memories of Kathryn Janeway_ **

_I’m - even or eight years old. I’ve been playing in the garden, especially in the old tree house. I shouldn’t be there, but it’s the only place where Phoebe won’t disturb me, because she’s too little to climb a tree. I shouldn’t be fair, because it’s not safe anymore – during a storm last autumn, some of the planks have got loose and my parents have explicitly forbidden me to use it until my father has had time to repair it. Only he’s never home, and I need my secret place. Actually, he’s home right now, a brief stop between two missions, and I asked him to play with me, but he doesn’t have time. So I came to the tree house to sulk. I may have been a bit rude too… Like, I may have yelled at him… Only he didn’t come after me. So I’m in trouble, big time. When I hear the supper bell ring, I sigh – time to go and face the music – I really don’t want to, but if I’m late for supper when my father is here, I’ll be in even bigger trouble. So I scramble up and start down the tree. For a moment, I’ve forgotten the storm, and as I step on one of the planks, it yields under my weight and I fall, screaming. Everything goes black and when I come to, I’m in my father’s arms and he’s carrying me back to the house. I hurt all over – I’ll find out later that I’ve been very lucky, with just a sprained wrist and a minor concussion. But in his arms, I’ve never felt so safe or so loved in my life._

When Janeway came to, she was lying on the couch. She realised she had fainted and was instantly ashamed of it. Her eyes fluttered open and the first person she saw was Chatokay, who was crouching on the floor at her side, looking concerned.

She closed her eyes again and murmured weakly “let me go”.

“You’re not going anywhere, Kathryn. Not until the Doctor has a look at you. B’Elanna called him and he’ll be here momentarily.”

Even though she shied from medical attention at the best of times, Janeway had to admit she needed help. If she couldn’t walk, she wouldn’t be able to flee. But would it be “her” Doctor? Voyager’s EMH? She was in no condition to face a stranger.

She kept her eyes closed until she heard the Doctor’s voice – the same deep voice that had so enchanted the Qomar. Even then, she didn’t bother looking at him.

“What have you done to yourself, Admiral?”

Since she didn’t reply, he muttered: “I see” and Janeway sensed he was scanning her with a tricorder. He tut-tutted several times and she felt rays of some kind penetrating her body around her hip. When he had finished, he didn’t address her either – fair enough, she supposed – but she heard him say to Chakotay that she would be all right after a few days of rest – that she might walk with a limp, but she would at least be able to walk. Nothing new, then. As soon as she heard the two men walk away, she opened her eyes, and seeing that she was alone, she started to make her escape through the French window. She was almost there when she heard a noise behind her – she turned and saw Miral’s big, dark eyes staring at her. She put a fingers to her lips, fearing the little girl would alert her mother, but the child didn’t move, just stared at her in silence.

Limping, Janeway made her way to her hovercraft and entered her home address on campus. Once there, she didn’t even take the time to undress and went to lie down – the effect of the painkiller hypospray the Doctor had administered was starting to wear off but she welcomed the pain – a just chastisement for the way she had behaved. Somehow she drifted off in a fitful sleep, from which she woke up the next morning in a restless, anxious mood. For the first time since she had joined Starfleet, she called in sick – she just couldn’t face the cadets. That just gave her more time to reflect on what she considered her abysmal and highly illogical behaviour. She even tried to arrange her thoughts on a pad, and she wasn’t proud of what she wrote. Even if she considered she did not deserve happiness, she had no right to make other people miserable. The distress and the utter incomprehension she had read in Chakotay’s eyes had been put there by her own fears and her own selfishness. Even if she did not believe he loved her, he did not deserve to be treated like that. As for B’Elanna – well, Janeway still thought the young engineer had betrayed her, but she was astute enough to accept that B’Elanna had thought she was doing the right thing by trying to get her and Chakotay together. She was still angry, but… She was the one who had to make amends and if she wanted to know Chakotay’s whereabouts, she would have to ask B’Elanna. No way she would go to Starfleet Command for information, even if they had been liable to give it to her, which they probably weren’t. She could not bring herself to beg face-to-face, though, and decided to send a message to the lieutenant. It was, like her logs, brief and to the point: “I’m sorry for what happened yesterday. I hope you will accept my apologies. Please tell Chakotay I’ll be home all day and I would very much appreciate it if he found it in him to come. I owe him an apology too, one I have to make in person. If he doesn’t come, I’ll know I have damaged the situation irreversibly and will only have myself to blame. K. Janeway.”


	8. Epilogue

Janeway woke up and she was in his arms. His hand cupped her face, slowly bringing it to his and their lips met, tentatively at first, and then hungrily, desperately. So many emotions in that kiss – a tinge of anger, a sliver of doubt, a lump of comfort and…Love. She clung to him and lingered in the kiss, melting in his embrace… “Kathryn…Kathryn…”

“Captain! Captain!” Glaring lights hurt her eyes as she blinked and tried to focus. Janeway surveyed her surroundings – where? What? No – that wasn’t possible – she was in her apartment, on the Academy campus. She was back on Earth – she had brought them back. As she stirred, the Doctor’s and Chakotay’s heads came into focus, bending over her.

“You’re all right, Captain – you’re in sickbay.”

Captain? Why was the Doctor calling her Captain? And why did Chakotay look so relieved?

And then – then she remembered. Everything. But why? It had all felt so real… So terrible, so awful, and so real. Since Rawson had blown himself and the SS Equinox up, she had been having nightmares, deep nightmares from which she had had more and more difficulties emerging. She had come to see the Doctor a few days previously and he had treated her with transcranial stimulation. Since the treatment, instead of decreasing, the nightmares had intensified, and so the previous night, just before she had gone to sleep, he had given her a shot – “No more nightmares with that, Captain”, he had said. Too tired to argue – the nightmares exhausted her, she hadn’t even asked what it was. She put her hand on her forehead and tried to rub, but her fingers met several electrodes.

The Doctor went on: “You didn’t come to the bridge this morning and when Mr. Chakotay went to your quarters, he couldn’t wake you up. I’m so sorry, Captain – the shot – adrenolol with proprezamine – it seems that…”

“It seems it backfired”, muttered Janeway. The EMH was usually very competent, but obviously whatever the mixture was hadn’t worked. Instead, she had been sucked deeper and deeper into the nightmare, and it had felt… So real. She was wearing her silk pyjamas and she pulled the sleeves up, and then the top, to look at her skin – no scars. Still not quite convinced, she made herself ask: “Did you do something to my skin? Regenerate it?” Seeing the Doctor look worriedly at Chakotay, she sighed: “Never mind. Don’t worry, I’m all right – I haven’t gone mad yet, although if I keep having those nightmares, I might soon be. Chakotay, how are things going?”

After he gave her a brief report – that is, a brief “nothing to report”, she sighed again, “Well, you have the bridge for a while longer, Commander. I’ll go back to my quarters, put on more suitable clothes and join you shortly.” She tried to read his eyes but their blackness remained inscrutable. What was the truth? What had really happened?

Despite the Doctor’s protestations, she beamed herself back to her quarters, took a sonic shower and dressed carefully, examining her body – a few traces of wear and tear, of course, but no reminders of a Klingon prison. How had it all been a dream? Or – how could she not have known it was a dream? She did think she might be court-martialled for her actions if they ever made it back to Earth, but… And that ludicrous story about her future self coming to save them? And the child… Miral – well, that might well come true, for B’Elanna was expecting a little girl and it was one of the names she favoured. She winced as she remembered the details of her nightmares – how she had behaved. Could she really act so callously towards people who, other the past years, had become her family? The pill was bitter to swallow, but she had to admit it to herself – she probably could. The way she had acted with Ransom and his crew… With Chakotay, who had only been trying to keep her on the path of reason…As was her custom when she was troubled, Janeway faced the sky and stared at its boundlessness. 

_Memories of Kathryn Janeway_

_We’re sitting on the porch as a family. My parents on recliners, my sister and I on a blanket on the floor. It’s very quiet – a perfect night – a starry night, an immensity of dark sky strewn with luminous dots. My mother leans towards me: “Look how beautiful it is, Katie – how huge!”. And I say, pointing at the stars: “One, two, three, four, five, six…” and I would have gone on and on if my father hadn’t reached out and plopped me on his knees, laughing: “Some day, I’ll take you up there, kitten, and you can see them better – who knows, you might even be able to count them for real.” And I pout because he doesn’t understand I’m already doing it “for real”._

But what about the kiss – what about the kiss? It had felt so real – and she had been awake. Or had she? She knew she had feelings for Chakotay – she would never act upon them – she wouldn’t have a relationship with her first officer, but… If they ever got home, if maybe some parts of that nightmares were true… Was there a future for them? Together?

After that night, she had no more nightmares.


End file.
